


Storms and Masterpieces

by ArkStationsLibrary



Category: The 100 (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkStationsLibrary/pseuds/ArkStationsLibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just wanted Bellamy and Clarke in the rain, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms and Masterpieces

The dreams have become more frequent.

Every few nights, for the past two weeks, Bellamy dreams of Clarke Griffin coming to his tent. The first words out of her mouth are, “I need you.”

Then there are no words.

There’s only the two of them, clothes quickly being yanked from each other, and then Bellamy pins her down, and he looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell him to stop.

She gives him a nod, and then——

He wakes up.

Every. Damn. Time.

It’s making him pissed, so pissed, he can’t think straight. Even being around her for just a second makes him crazy and he finds himself getting angry with her for no reason. Everyone’s noticed, including Clarke.

Then one day he goes too far. He doesn’t even remember the argument, just running out of the drop ship outside, where it’s storming like a bitch.

It isn’t hurricane weather, but it’s still pretty bad. It isn’t long before he hears Clarke behind him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands, giving him a hard shove.

Bellamy turns around to look at her. “It’s you, Princess,” he shouts, and regrets the words immediately when he sees the look on her face, like he’s slapped her or something.

Clarke grits her teeth. “I thought we moved past this. I thought….we were….” Her words hang in the balance, and he wishes she’d finish the damn sentence. He thinks if she says friends he might just go float himself.

He can’t be just friends with Clarke. They are the moon and the sun, working together to keep the delicate world they’ve built in existence. Without her, everything is just a dream, and he’s all bravado and bull shit.

Clarke has become a voice inside his head, somewhere along the way, the one thing, besides Octavia, that stops him from setting fires when sometimes all he wants to do is let everything burn. “What are we, Clarke?” he demands.

Clarke looks at him with surprise. “I just thought we were partners.”

His face falls. “Fine, fine, if that’s what you want, I’ll do it, but Princess, you are lying to yourself if you think this is going to go away. We’re like those old art masterpieces you talk about, and you can try to erase us, but it’s never going to get better than this.”

He starts to storm off again, wishing the rain would wash him away. He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Clarke standing there.

“We’re better than a masterpiece, Bellamy,” she says, “we’re real.” 

It’s started to thunder now, and there’s lightning off in the distance. They shouldn’t be standing there, in the rain storm, staring at each other, but neither one of them wants to move just yet.

Bellamy, for once, finds that he can’t say anything when he should be saying everything. He clears his throat just to break the silence, and says, “We should go inside.”

Clarke grins. “Yeah we should.” Then she pulls him by the collar of his now soaking wet shirt through the camp into his tent.

Later that night, Bellamy wakes up again in the middle of sleeping, but this time it isn’t because of the dream. This time it’s because he just wants to see her sleeping next to him. He breathes her in just to reassure himself that she’s actually there, and not something his minds made up. When he finally does fall back asleep, it’s the most restful one he’s had in a long time.


End file.
